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child poem

in der LageSEIN, jede Seite jeder Frage zu sehen
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
Material des Mondes
die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
sehen Sie, daß ich Ihnen mich gebe
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
denken Sie, mein Junge, wenn ich meine Arme um Sie setze

 



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